


Requiem

by startwithsparks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Past Underage, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Jon and his sister spend a cozy Halloween night alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem

"Alright, I've got a bucket of candy and a stack of Lon Chaney films, what do you want to watch first?" Jon called into the other room, shuffling through stacks of old horror films. His sister had left them in his apartment last Halloween and he'd simply stashed them away in the top of his closet until the next year rolled around.

"Wolfman!" she hollered back, a faint sound of clanging in the kitchen, before she came back out with a Cherry Coke in one hand and a gray knit sweater tight around her narrow waist.

He smiled at her and shook her head. "Predictable."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Cause you're not going to choose Dracula vs Frankenstein next, right?"

He offered her a small scowl, only because he hated how well she knew him. He loved it too, of course. She was more like him than any of their other siblings; she had always been the one to make him feel part of something when he knew he was an outsider among the rest of the Starks. Jon slipped the DVD into the player and grabbed the remote off the TV stand, circling around the wide coffee table, before he dropped down on the couch. She waited until he got settled - leaning against the waist-high arm as he stretched his legs out along the length of the couch - before she crawled on top of him and situated herself between his open legs. She was small enough still that she could rest her head comfortably on his chest, his arm slung lazily around her waist. On the table just within reach was a bowl of leftover trick-or-treat candy from the night before.

"Hit play already, Snow!" she teased, digging her shoulder into his chest.

He laughed and mussed her hair, then started the movie and tossed the remote down on the table. They'd seen this movie so many times now that even if his attention did lapse from time to time - to play with her pixie-short hair or trace the jutting lines of her collarbones - he could pick right back up as soon as there was something exciting on the screen. She didn't seem to mind his distraction. From where he sat he could see the smile tugging at her lips and the way she lulled her head slowly to the side to expose a bit more neck. They both knew he wouldn't do anything about it, other than torment himself over all the things he wanted to do, but she teased him nonetheless and he always gave in just enough for her to know he'd noticed. It was a playful back and forth that had been going on, honestly, longer than it should have. Jon had felt a pang or two of guilt when it first started, but she was always quick to tell him he was being and idiot and back him up into a corner.

Thinking about it now, there had only ever been one other girl who'd come on to him as hard as she had, and when Jon left for college the two had more of less drifted apart. Arya had her fair share of relationships too, everything from dark-haired gear-heads to the captain of the girl's lacrosse team, with crushes on fencing instructors and art teachers scattered in between. Some of them he thought would even hold her attention, though none ever did. She was flighty, in the most amazing way possible, always darting from one passion to the next, always filled with a desire to experience more. Sometimes he worried about her, he knew that it was easy to wander astray like that, but every time he voiced a concern to her, she'd smirk at him and tell him that's why she carried a knife.

Now she was curled up on top of him, sleeves pulled down over her hands and legs tangled with his, her head resting over his heartbeat. He leaned down and buried his face in her dark hair, inhaling the vague scent of coconuts, before he pressed a kiss to her head. She responded by reaching for his hand and dragging it further around her body, until he had to shift onto his side in order to fit comfortably the way she wanted him. She simply pressed in closer, squirming against him in a way that made Jon blush, and reached for a piece of candy from the bowl.

"Comfortable?" he muttered against her ear.

"I could think of a few things that would be more comfortable..." she offered innocently, tipping her head back to smile at him.

"Do I even want to know?" he sighed.

"No," she shook her head, "probably not. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to show you..."

"Oh boy..." he drawled, trying to sound unamused by her antics, but his cheeks were rosy and his pupils just a little more dilated than usual, a fact she didn't fail to notice when she squirmed around to face him.

Jon rest his hand against her lower back, largely to keep her from falling off the couch while she was moving around, and tried to relax back against the arm of the couch while she slowly slinked forward. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then across his lower lip, and nuzzled their noses playfully together. Despite the sweater, her skin felt cold, and Jon reached for the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around her.

"Almost there..." she hummed, and rest her hands on his chest.

Her mouth covered his again, this time coaxing his lips apart for a deeper kiss. His hands grasped her sides, then slowly slipped under her sweater and the teeshirt below. She arched playfully, and tucked her head down against the warm curve of his neck. He was no better at telling her no now than he had ever been, but the kiss, the jump in his heartbeat when she sprawled out on top of him, must have been enough.

From where they lay, Jon could reach enough to grab the remote when it was time to switch to the next movie - though he couldn't really get up and she didn't seem to want to move, so unfortunately it wasn't the one he'd planned to watch next - but The Ghost of Frankenstein was good enough if it meant that her body stayed pressed against his own. By the end of it she was asleep, wrapped up in blankets and his arms, perfectly still and content. Jon brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, then moved on to the next movie as he started to doze as well.

The next thing he knew the spooky music and flashing lightning on the main menu screen was playing in a tired loop. Jon glanced at the clock on the DVD player and stretched, his back and shoulders creaking and cracking from the awkward sleeping position. As he stirred, the blankets slipped off his lap, a gray knit sweater tangled up in it. Jon stared at it for a moment, a strange crawling anxiety slipping over his shoulders and into his chest. The back of his eyes burned as he leaned over and picked it up, holding the bundle in his both hands. He pressed the sweater to his face and inhaled, but there was nothing. The smell of coconut had faded months ago. A lump rose in his throat, and he pulled his knees to his chest, a sob wrenching free from him.

These were the last pieces of his baby sister he had left: a box of DVDs, a sweater she'd left on the floor of his bedroom a year ago, and the fading memory of her lips pressed eager and warm against his. Her last words to him - "That's why I carry a knife" - still rung loud in his ears, though a knife was hardly protection against a drunk teenager blowing past a stop sign.


End file.
